


Daddy Issues

by clockworkangelwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkangelwings/pseuds/clockworkangelwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants revenge and the demon inside him wants it more than anything</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Sex. Empty, meaningless, wrong. Sometimes women, sometimes men. Didn't matter. Chewed up and spit back out again. No comfort. No feelings. Just pure decadence and the second hand contact that he craved so much. It fills a void for a while, a brief cloudless night sky settling over Dean's psyche. Through the window the motel room, the heavenly light of the moon filling the space behind his eyes, envolping him with its lethargic luna wings. He had found something close to peace.

They left without a word. Jacket and payment in hand, transaction complete. This left Dean time to think, something he seemed to spend most of his life doing these days now that he was alone. Lying in the crispy motel bed he couldn't help but let his mind float, drifting in and out of reality. The unbearable silence fills his ears, brain clouds beginning to thundering with thoughts he'd rather forget, the static rain heightening with the chemical equation for that feeling you get when you feel nostalgic.

No note, no goodbye. Kiss. Kissing. Even thinking their name made his stomach bile turn, the butterflies erroding inside. Cas. He tried not to think about the angel gone human. How he fell for humanity during the apocalypse and lost his grace, the very essensce of all angels making him human in the first place. Grace is like the human soul except on an entirely different level of powerful, giving them the ability to heal and exorcise demons without the need for a spell like hunters use. He remembered how Cas fell because of his stupid mistakes “because it was the right thing to do, OK!”. How he fell to save the hunter he cared too much about.

 

“That's his weakness, he likes you” said one of his brothers once. He remembered the way they used to talk under the stars, lying on Dean's 1967 black Chevy Impala, with ice cold beers like nothing else mattered. The way that they used to just be without the pressures of the outside world, especially his son-of-a-bitch father. “You put this entire family at risk son! Not only me but Sammy. Your own brother could die because of your recklessness. What you're doing, it's not heroic, it's just plain stupid. I'm disappointed in you” Mr Winchester would say, spitting with furious anger, face like a sunburnt tumour.

Hearing the same speech over and over as a 9 year old boy, Dean would have just taken it. Taken it despite the tearing feeling inside, taken it despite the burning sensation of wet tears behind his eyes. Taken it for Sammy. The only reason he stood there like the bitch he made fun of Sammy being sometimes, the reason he did anything anymore. He tried. Dean tried to protect him like he tried to protect everyone he cared about. He always did. Always had. Ever since he ran out of the burning house with his brother all those years ago, he had always obeyed. He had always trusted his father's judgement. When the man gave him an order he damn well obeyed. It was like Dean was playdough and his father was a small child, moulding him in his own perfect little solider. Indocrinated into a life he didn't want, the life of a hunter. “Saving people, hunting things, the family business”, the motto that consumed his life. Knuckles embedded themselves in the side of Dean's upper arm enough times reminding him what would happen if he didn't follow his destiny, the path his father and his father before him had mapped out for him, no question asked. He did it “beacause it was the right thing to do, OK”.

Sometimes, at least when he got old enough, he questioned why. Why should he follow dad's orders? Most of the time they were reckless and impulsive and nearly always ended with Dean being injured in some way. Most of the time it got to the to the point of death. As a 30 year old, well built killing machine Dean questioned a lot of things. But then he remembered why he did what he did. He remembered why he quite literally went to hell and back (not pleasant by the way). Why he quite literally sold his soul to the devil to save his brother Sam's life. Why he cared so much. Family. Without family Dean was nothing more than a pyschopath with daddy issues, indiscriminately killing to protect the select few that meant more to him than life itself, especially his own. However, he was not a 9 year old kid anymore. As a 30 year old man, with a lifetime of experience in things normal people his age should never have to deal with, he would feel nothing. He learnt that from the only one he could ever trust; himself. After HE had betrayed his trust, the fact he opened himself up to them, made himself vulnberable and got hurt? That burned the most.

At first.

This was now invalid. Dean hasn't felt in months. Not since that day.


	2. Chapter 2

“Caring” he scoffed inside his head. What was care to him now? Now that he had no responsibility. No one to care about. No one to love. With his new black demon eyes he felt invincible. Given to him by the curse, he thought he could do anything and there would be no consequences. Nothing to keep him down to earth, bound to the feelings his human self once felt. Dean had become the very thing he once hunted; and he loved it. He could fly and nothing could bring him down. That's why he followed Cas in that car. Baby, as his past self once called her, blazed up the freeway, headlights stroking the tarmac. Despite her name, this was no infant's car. The tiger of an engine roared into the black starless night, wheels screeching as he turned into the tunnel. A deathly silence followed as the demon drove further and further away, gradually catching up to his target.

 

Then the black cracked open the silence an amber brightness flaming into the horizon.


	3. Chapter 3

Bits of car strewn everywhere, the smell of burnt rubber making the unscathed demon gag as he waded through the wreckage looking for the driver. The ex angel laid helpless, dirty and bleeding like the scum he was. His leg was twisted out of place, probably broken from the impact of the crash, making it very difficult for him to do anything but crawl like the worm Dean saw in him.The hunter part of him raised the Colt to its head, the click of the safety being turned off sending adrenaline through his veins.

He was ready.

The angel's face was wet from the tears, and mixed with the dirt and newly opened wounds on his face made him look almost inhuman. His mouth moved but no words came out. Not that Dean could hear over the growl of the flames, lapping up the car's upholstery like a kitten and a bowl of milk.

“You see what I've become” Dean yelled over the symphony of flames, emerald green dissolving to black empty eyes “It's all your fault”

 

“Dean I-”


	4. Chapter 4

I guess that's why he killed him.

            As I stood over the unmarked graves of the hunter and the angel, the cold wind breathing against my neck, the box of matches began to shake in my gloved hands. I knew what I had to do, it was almost tradition. I lit the match like I would at any other hunter funeral, dropping it into the gasoline soaked corpses igniting immediately. My hand immediately went over my nose and mouth, the smell of burning bodies never really being my favourite. I suppose I should be used to it by now. I should have been crying, I know I should have. My heart willed my brain into submission but the firewall I had put up held strong as it should, emotional distance was an essential part of this trade if you wanted to remain level headed.

            It should have been different, but I knew deep down he'd changed and there was no going back. I'd lost two brothers that day and I wasn't going to forget that, their memory would last me a lifetime. Two shots was all it took. One for the angel who fell to save him and one for my brother the hunter who didn't deserve to be.

Two shots was all it took. 

One for the angel who fell to save him and one for my brother the hunter who didn't deserve to be. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :) It was my first real thing I've written in years so feedback would be hugely appreciated.


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